


Ex Lovers Widower

by Bremmatron33



Series: One Mech's Junk... [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Mentions of sticky, Violence, mentions of interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 05:15:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7155191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bremmatron33/pseuds/Bremmatron33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it's best to leave old scars alone for a while. It can be hard when what caused them is always a just a few rooms away now. I listed this as part of a series but you don't have to read the first one to read this one. I just did that because they are connected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ex Lovers Widower

**Author's Note:**

> One more thing I don't know why I wrote. I feel like Bulkhead and Breakdown don't get enough love though so I did my best. Mind the errors this story is unbettaed.

The first time they met after the accident he didn’t even know his name. 

Bulkhead fell in two or three paces behind Springer who was weaving in between the debris of the city. The Decepticons had just revealed another gestalt and the Autobots hadn’t even managed one. So it was Wreckers to the rescue as always. As they took position the world seemed to still while he waited for the call. 

The attack lasted for hours and by the end half the city was destroyed but as the monstrosity fell to pieces Bulkhead caught a glimpse of a navy blue chassis. He felt his spark stall for a moment. It couldn’t have been him. He ran to the falling mech and shielded his optics as they crashed to the ground. Rust and shrapnel flew up around them and Bulkhead felt the shards nik at his chassis. Like that would stop him though. As the cloud of debris cleared Bulkhead ran forward and dug through the collapsed metal. It was blistering hot and the sharp ragged edges carved into his digits but he was a mech on a mission.

Beneath all the rubble there he was. Broken and scared but the young bot he remembered. Bulkhead shook him ruthlessly till his optics onlined but once they had he wished he hadn’t. Breakdown wasn’t the bot he used to be. His empty gaze as he stared up into the face of his ex lover was a dead give away. Bulkhead had wished he’d been a wiser mech then.

“Breakdown? Breakdown bud it’s me. What was with the radio silence you scared the guys and me half to death!” Breakdown looked up at Bulkhead, a sneer on his face.

“Sorry pal you got the wrong Bot. Name’s Menasor. It will be a pleasure to kick your Autobot aft though.”

Bulkhead didn’t even know what to do when the first hit connected, or the second, or the third. By the fourth reality set in though. Anger and sorrow gripped his spark but that didn’t stop him from pummeling the young bruiser into the ground. He was going to finish the job when he felt Motormaster send him flying. 

He watched as his vision spun as the truck screamed and hollered and beat Breakdown. Bulkhead felt his spark unwind. Motormaster had been screamer but he was never cruel. What had the Cons done to his friends? It didn’t matter by the time Bulkhead was back on his peds both of them were gone.

He spent the weeks leading up to the next battle in a state. Every chance they got to fight he begged Springer to send him out, all in the hopes that Menasor would be there. All in the hope that he could see Breakdown again. 

He had felt dumb for acting so rashly. For turning right to violence. Of course Breakdown wasn’t going to be the same he had been found out by CONS there was no way he was going to be ok! That had just been a pipe dream. Primus had given him a second chance and he wouldn’t be so stupid the next time. He would get Breakdown back.

Only he didn’t. Breakdown had wizened up. All of Menasor had. By their next fight they were damn near unrecognizable from the mechs they used to be. All except Motormaster of course. No reason to mess with perfection as he would say. They were a mess though, it was clear whatever upgrades the Cons had given them weren’t thought out very well. Even still Breakdown was a sight for sore optics. Even if he did look like a Junker.

“Hey Bulk long time no see.” Bulkhead remembered his spark pounding as he heard those words. Obviously Breakdown had come to his senses and was remorseful and devastated and would do anything to come home.

“Breakdown? You’ve finally come to your fragging SENSES!”

“Yeah of course I have.” Like the rust and the smoke clogged his vents and clouded his sensors Breakdown's words did the same to Bulkhead’s processor. He wanted to believe. He wanted to believe it was going to be that easy so badly that he would ignore almost anything. Almost anything. Breakdown was shaking like a seeker in high wind and was venting so heavily he may as well have been on his heat. He was lying. Bulkhead could always tell when Breakdown lied. Someone had told him what to say. As always his emotions got the best of him.

“YOU DON’T KNOW SLAG!” This fight wasn’t as easy. He was still the brawler that Bulkhead remembered but he was bigger. Stronger. Angrier.

“I sure as the PIT know you and your Wrecker losers left us to be Decepticon playthings! How about THAT Bulkhead?”

“You think I wanted that? You knew the risks! You knew them even if you don’t remember now!”

“Don’t give me your slag! You didn’t care about me! You did your best to get RID OF ME! I wouldn’t have been on that ship if it wasn’t for you!”

Bulkhead slammed the other mech into the ground and went stiff. So he did remember something. The worst things. Of course. “I did what I thought was best! Breakdown. Don’t make me do this.”

“Breakdown’s gone. It’s just Menasor now and I will be happy to turn you into scrap!” Breakdown took a swing but it was clear he wasn’t used to the new weapons he was retrofitted with. He slammed it into Bulkhead's tire and sent it right back to the ground. It didn’t hurt but the shocks that traveled through Bulkhead's frame told him that the other bruiser wasn’t messing around.

“You ain’t got a chance. You never did.”

Bulkhead had him then. He didn’t plan to kill him. Just beat him unconscious. He would have dragged the idiot glitch as far as he had to to get his old Breakdown back but Motormaster had to ruin everything like usual. Bulkhead was left literally looking for his bottom jaw in the rubble as he watched Motormaster haul Breakdown away. Screaming up a storm as usual. 

Every time he saw him afterwards it was the same thing. Tear Menasor down. Fight denta and nail. Try his to get through to the slagger. But they were all so angry and lost and every time they went back it only became worse.... so Bulkhead gave up. He stopped fighting to save him and instead fought to kill him. He didn’t want to look at them anymore. He couldn’t look at him anymore.

Then he vanished. Menasor vanished. Cons got a new toy and Bulkhead got what he wanted but it wasn’t enough. His absence ate away at Bulkhead’s spark. Jackie did his best. So did the others, but they didn’t know what to say. They didn’t understand what it was like to have a mech they loved on the opposite side of the field. Especially not one who had no business being there! He needed closure so when Prime said he needed strong mechs to tour the galaxy and chase Cons Bulk took the opportunity. 

A few decades later Jackie gave him the news that their boy was back in business. Better than ever. Deadlier too. It had taken every ounce of his intelligence to not scream at the captain to turn the ship around.He told himself it was for the best. He told himself to forget and move on. Easier said than done. 

Then the planet died. Mechs were everywhere. Cons. Bots. Everyone. All fighting. Still fighting despite it all. Bulk saw him on some blown out planet at a bar after a few too many looking better than the day he came out of the Forge. The same bulky frame the Cons had given him but this one had a little love put into it. A lotta love. So he was a little jealous. How could have he not been. Breakdown was smiling and laughing, drinking too. Dead End was too. They both twitched and flinched at every other word. Just like the old days... but for different reasons. It was too much. He was so handsome and scared. Just like the old days. He just wanted to check. Just wanted to say hello. Anything. Just to see. Bulkhead couldn’t help but follow his spark. As soon as his gestalt mate got up to chat up some other mech he stepped in. He remembered putting his servo on his shoulder. He remembered Breakdown turning around. He remembered the sparkwrenching glow of joy in those golden optics. Then he remembered the punch to the face. 

He remembered several punches. He also remembered the large velxtorian coming over to break up the fight. As he did though Bulk quickly slipped his digits into Breakdown’s hip armor and pulled him close, mashing his lips against the other mechs. That made something click. He felt Breakdowns digits slip in between his plates. Curling and clawing to hold on. The owner told them to get a room. So they did. 

And it was good. His touch. His kiss. His voice. His valve. The way he begged for more. It didn’t matter that his grip hurt or that he spit his name like acid. Bulkhead was too drunk to care. It was enough. He remembered. He wanted it too. The next morning he woke to Breakdown still recharging but two cubes of energon on the table. As he stupidly drank his before waiting for Breakdown to wake back up he thought it was the joy that was making him feel so sick. Breakdown had actually woken up and came back to be with him. He wanted to be with him. He should never have been so stupid! The poison kicked in a few minutes later, setting his systems on fire and paralysing him. His chassis crashing to the floor the signal Breakdown was waiting for.

He was smiling as he kicked Bulkhead’s body over. Laughing as he straddled him and placed a blaster to his temple. “This was real fun Bulk. Seems like you haven’t forgotten a thing. Neither have I. Did you really think I was going to just let what you did to me go? DO YOU KNOW WHAT THOSE CONS DID TO US? HUH! NO YOU DON’T….. AND YOU DON’T CARE. Cause that’s just how it is. That’s just how the Wreckers operate.”

“Breakdown-” Breakdown shoved the gun in Bulkhead’s mouth and pushed down deep.

“KEEP IT ON MUTE WHILE I’M TALKING GOT IT! I’m tired of everyone trying to talk over me. Like they know better. Like they mean more.” Breakdown’s optics lit up as he laughed. A psychotic sort of joy filled the sound. “This ain’t about that though Bulk. It’s really not. We’re good. What we just had was good. That’s the thing about something good though. You can always find something better...and I have. I found something better. Better than the Wreckers, better than you.” Breakdown leaned in heavily on his gun again forcing it farther into Bulkhead’s mouth. He sighed and rubbed at the side of his face. “Only problem is my stupid spark. I couldn’t believe how easy it was for me to get hot for you after one STUPID kiss.” He paused again as he rubbed at his face with more fervor. “I want him more than I want you…... so you gotta go.” His finger was on the trigger. There was nothing Bulkhead could do. Then he heard a nasally smooth voice come in over Breakdown’s comm system. Breakdown swore as he answered it. “I’ll be right there Boss don’t take off without me now!” His voice was panicked, desperate, as if he actually believed it was a possibility, and that it would be the worst thing to ever happen to him. The voice on the other end responded. Something incomprehensible thanks to his accent but the laugh...oh that laugh. That was the laugh of a mech who could have fun doing anything. Dancing on bar tops or destroying worlds. It didn’t matter. 

In that moment after hearing that laugh Bulkhead decided he was going to kill the Con who managed to slavecode Breakdown. Because it had to be that right? Just some Con trick. There was no other possibility. “Alright Boss I got it. Just give me a few clicks I gotta finish up with something.” The voice went quiet and when it did Breakdown pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Bulkhead had drained the weapon before he powered down for the night. He smiled around the weapon. At the look on Breakdown’s face, but it quickly fell as watched the other bruiser reload the blaster with frightening efficiency. 

“So they taught you a few things over there.Guess they’re true to their word about that. Is it worth it? Sucking Con spike for a bit of teaching.” 

“You ain’t going to goad me this time Bulkhead.” The gun was back to his head but the poison in the energon was wearing off. They fought. The walls took a few good shots. So did the two of them. Breakdown ran. Bulkhead had a new mission. He had a Con to find.

Except it wasn’t easy. Swindle was the only name he got. He knew Swindle. He and Jackie had beaten Swindles face in a million times. They always let him go. A necessary evil Springer always said. Whoever the mech on the other line had been it sure as the Pit was deep wasn’t Swindle. Bulkhead did everything. He asked around, he kidnapped mechs, he killed them. Nothing got him any closer. Then as fate would have it, another bar, another planet no one would remember after its solar system went super nova on it.

He had to wait. Hours. Then he saw Motormaster go off into a room. Then he left the room, so Bulkhead kicked in the door. The lot of them were passed out drunk. It wasn’t that hard to haul Breakdown off. What was hard was keeping his servos off of him. His face was warm, his modesty plating even warmer. Passed out and chained to whatever Bulkhead could secure him to made him look like the stud on the set of some bad porno. It might have well been after he woke up.

It was supposed to be menacing. He was going to have Breakdown call his boss in. He was going to ambush him. He was going to kill him. Breakdown was still really drunk though and he had always been so good at getting Bulk in the mood. First the dirty talk then the next thing Bulkhead knew his cord was Breakdown’s mouth. Bulkhead gripped the back of the other bruisers helm as tight as he could and thrusted slowly. Skullfragging his hasbeen lover as sensually as he could. When something in his armor started beeping he flipped out. Rammed an elbow in Bulkhead’s gut and started screaming to be let go. He tore at the bonds till the dented his metal and he kicked and swung at Bulkhead till he was flat on his aft. It didn’t do either of them any good. Then he saw him. The mech who had stolen Breakdown’s spark. 

He walked in as if he owned the place, looking over some archaic data pad. “Breakdown what do you think you’re doing in here I told you to say put? You made me use the tracker and everything. Mmmtstch~ What am I going to do with you?” 

“Boss.” Breakdown said the word like he used to say Bulkhead’s name. 

Bulkhead felt his anger surge. He needed to get a good look. In case the slagger got away. In case he had to hunt him down. Boy did he get a good look. The mech looked half Breakdown’s age, svelte but clearly starving. The stylish sun bleached paint just barely hiding the cracks in his metal. The look of a high class mech just barely keeping their status in a war-torn world. An apocalyptic sort of beauty. Just enough for other mechs to know who they were dealing with. Barely armored, visible protoform and wires, with bags upon bags hanging from his hips and his wheels. It was clear he was no Con higher up. A scavenger, a rebel, a medic? The flash of a medic medallion swung from his hip, tied around a blue and white bag. His beautiful white servos, long and slender and covered in thin hairline scratches. A dead giveaway of a medic without a base.

He looked up and saw Breakdown tied up and Bulkhead with his plug out and he smiled. That smile, oh that smile~ And Primus those optics. Pure silvery white so they sparkled technicolor in the light. They made him look almost alien with his white face. It was no wonder he had lost Breakdown to this mech Bulkhead was falling in love too. “My, my Breakdown, you shouldn’t have. You know we have clients waiting.” He sounded exhausted but there was no hiding the arousal and the satisfaction from his tone. 

Breakdown stuttered as he tried to come up with a good enough lie. “It-t-ts been a long hard moth. Figured you could use something to brighten you up.”

“Oh~ Well then by all means.” The young mech found some scrap metal and took a seat. Bulkhead didn’t know what to do. He knew what Breakdown wanted him to do but he couldn’t look away. The longer he stared the more the young mechs smile fell. “I think I’ve scared him. You didn’t pay him anything for this little show did you?”

“No, he’s nobody.” That was really a stab to the spark.

“Then we should get going.” The medic swiftly crossed the room and broke the chains restraining Breakdown. He gave the bruiser a peck to the cheek before letting him stand. “Thanks for trying though.” Breakdown looked over at Bulkhead who was still in shock and then back down at the pretty mech who had his servo in the air as if waiting for something.

“Sorry boss. I’ll try harder next time.” Breakdown picked the smaller mech up and settled him on his shoulder. Then the two just left. Something in Bulk broke. It hadn’t been a Con. It hadn’t been some diabolical mech looking for a weapon. It was just some young pretty mech. He felt so stupid.

Nothing changed. Every time he came across Breakdown they tried to kill each other. Every night after the fight whether he won or lost if he was able to he ended up rubbing one out. When he did it he thought of them. Breakdown happy with his pretty little mech. Sometimes he thought about them even if he hadn’t seen Breakdown in decades. Sometimes he just thought of the pretty little junker. He knew it was weird, wrong even but he couldn’t stop. The fantasies came no matter what he did. Then he forgot about them entirely. He moved on. So of course Breakdown had to come crashing back into his life again. Only the pretty little junker was gone and Breakdown was even more ruthless.

He didn’t know how he didn’t put it together. Knock Out hadn’t changed all that much. A litte more armor, a shiny coat of paint, and ruby red optics. That was all but it didn’t hit him till Ultra Magnus started complaining. He was tired of staring into those optics. Tired of feeling like a traitor to his faction for fragging the ex-Con when he thought no one was paying attention. It was all pretty obvious though. It was pretty hard to cover up Knock Out’s marks without a good buff. So Knock Out changed them back. Back to those sparkly alien silver ones. Bulkhead had figured that pretty little junker had died somewhere along the road. The Breakdown had done whatever he had to to survive. He didn’t even for one second think that Knock Out and the mech he met back then were the same. He still didn’t believe it till one night they got Knock Out plastered. The Cons had made him hard and ruthless but they hadn’t snuffed his past completely. That laugh~, oh those optics~, Primus that aft, Pit those digits. The fantasies came rushing back. Him and Breakdown, Knock Out and Breakdown, then just Knock Out and then it was Knock Out and him. Bulkhead didn’t think there was anything more desperate than still being in love with an ex-lover who wanted nothing to the other but was wrong. How desperate was being in love with the ghost of his ex lovers widower? Still despite the shame Bulkhead was determined. He’d get that Knock Out back. The mech Breakdown fell in love with. He’d get him and that would show that stupid slagger for dying before he finished what he started!

**Author's Note:**

> One of these days I will write something without Knock Out in it! That being said I do requests if I feel I can do them justice and some even if I don't. Like this one. Thanks for reading. Kudos and comment.


End file.
